


The Study

by sun_and_solace



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Caning, D/s, Dom/sub, Dominance, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fingering mention, Masochism, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Power Exchange, Sadism, Sadomasochism, Submission, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), blowjob, mild bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 05:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30083994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sun_and_solace/pseuds/sun_and_solace
Summary: Solus never was one for creature comforts. Even in his own room he sits in uniform, double breasted coat buttoned all the way up to his chin.He barely lifts his chin to greet you... In fact, you would have thought him oblivious to your presence if you hadn't known better.Solus continues his conquest of the lands..You are his personal courtesan, tasked with taking care of his needs.One snowy evening, he calls you to his office. You know what task you must fulfil.
Relationships: Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Solus zos Galvus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Kudos: 25





	The Study

**Author's Note:**

> Live written in discord (almost completely). Completely self indulgent military fetish.jpg  
>  ~~Can you tell what my fav fucking implement for sadomasochism is?~~

It's in his room, his office, that you greet him. You knock once at the door and enter, and as you do the warmth of the fire and the scent of his cologne, and that of the books that line nigh every wall, greets you.

At his desk he sits, wordless. Books and sheets of paper are strewn across its top half, with pins and daggers buried into stacks of paper, sometimes to keep them still and other times to mark out important information.

On the walls behind him the map of Eorzea sits, marked with pen and daggers just the same, framed on either side by dark windows.

His conquest continues.

Solus never was one for creature comforts. Even in his own room he sits in uniform, double breasted coat buttoned all the way up to his chin.

He barely lifts his chin to greet you... In fact, you would have thought him oblivious to your presence if you hadn't known better.

On one end of the table a candle sits, mostly burnt and gone. Solus continues to dip his quill into the ink pot and scratch away at the papers before him.

Soon after the wick flickers out, a thin trail of smoke rising from where it once burned. He'll need to get a new one.

You move silently on your feet, clicking the door shut behind you and beginning to work off your clothes.

Despite the snow outside you have no qualms about doing so. The wind whistles and whiteness washes up against the windows, but the fire keeps the place well lit and incredibly warm.

One button, two, you work away your blouse first, letting it tumble to the floor behind you before following it with your skirt.

Solus doesn't raise an eye towards you once.

When you're fully undressed you move on your toes towards him, settling to the left of his grand chair upon your knees by his desk.

Solus extends a hand and runs it through your hair and down your neck without even looking up from his work.

He trails it further, thumb pressing onto the center of your throat.... And then he trails it back up, pressing his thumb to your lips so that you take it on your tongue.

He doesn't have to ask for you to know.

He tugs his thumb out and you crawl beneath the desk... between his feet.

It's warm, dark.. and all you can smell is _him..._ Fabric on either side of your shoulders and that slight smell of leather from the shoes..

Perhaps he spreads his legs a little further for you... Just for _you_.

...

He doesn't speak _once._

Not even as you settle your hands on his thighs and slide them up.

Not even as your shaky fingers pry the fastening of his pants apart.

Not even when they circle his length and pull him free, giving two slow strokes.

Nor when you take him into your mouth.

Instead it is _you_ who struggles to suppress your moans, finding yourself overcome with lust at the opportunity to serve him.

After you work him and he empties in your mouth he keeps you there while he finishes his work.

He says _nothing_ again. There is no word of thanks, no praise. Nothing. Only the crackling of the fire to keep you company and the smell of your need.

Your mouth doesn't need to be around him but he lets you do it if you want.. you can almost imagine how he'd sneer at you if you could see him..

How he'd mock you for being so _addicted_ to his cock that even after you've served your duty, fulfilled your use, you can't even bare to let it out of your mouth.

Maybe if you're lucky he shifts a foot between your legs, tilting the toe up ever so slightly so it brushes against your soaked need....

...

And for the first time he speaks.

It's low, growling. Almost silent. And terrifying. 

"Don't. Move."

Your fingers grab the only thing they can - his trousers - as you let out a soft whimper and begin to tremble.

Back and forth he shifts the toe. Like this it's not even a relief, not even a tease. You can _feel_ it there, ilms away from where you want it, and every so often it _just_ brushes over your clit...

But it's not enough.

And he _knows_ how you want to complain, but you're a good girl.. you stay silent beneath the desk, letting him tease and taunt you as he wishes.

When he's finally finished his work his hand comes beneath the desk and threads into your locks.

It's affectionate until the grip tightens and he pulls you against his lap again, tearing a soft noise of alarm from your throat.

"The entire room stinks of you, pet..."

"Do you _know_ how much that tested my focus?"

Fingers soften again to stroke, and then the chair pulls out, the rush of cool air beneath the desk causing you to shiver visibly.

Solus doesn't look down at you when he stands. Instead he shifts to the side and pulls the chair with him, waiting for you to understand the wordless command and follow.

When you do, on your hands and knees of course, he tucks the chair back in and moves around the desk, first to the fireplace, and then to the cupboard in the corner.

A sense of fear bubbles in your stomach as you follow after him and still by the front of the fire, gaze following his shoes. _What comes out to hurt you today?_

You turn your head to the floor before he comes back. The doors clatter shut behind him and all that alerts you to his presence is the soft tap of his shoes on the floor.. And then the thin wooden cane's tip settles on the floor before your eyes, followed moments later by the thud of chair before the fire.

You don't speak a word as he settles himself before you. You don't lift your gaze and you don't even _whimper_.

Solus settles the cane upon the front of the chair's armrest and spreads his legs before you ever so slightly. You never noticed when he tucked himself away.

"Come, pet," he murmurs softly, one hand tapping his thigh.

Like the dutiful thing you are you obey, shifting on your knees until you're nestled, like before, between his lower legs.

"Hands on my knees."

Though you feel boneless you are helpless to obey.. Not that you could ever conceive disobeying your Master.

You lift your hands and gingerly place each on the front of his knees, keeping your gaze downwards the entire time.

His hands, those warm, soft and slightly calloused hands...They slip beneath one of your hands and lift them, stroking over the back of your palm gently as the stickiness of leather settles over your wrist.

As the kiss of the cuff settles over your arm he gingerly places your hand back down, repeating the motion with the same gentleness on the opposite side.

The chain comes next. This one you don't feel, but you hear instead, the gentle ringing of metal on metal as he clips one side and then the other to each of your cuffs.

What you _do_ feel is the gentle tug upon the chain as he pulls it up his thigh with a single index finger, causing you to edge even closer to him, eventually resting your forehead between his legs on the plush seat.

"You know what's coming, don't you, pet?"

The other hand settles on your head, stroking again.

You know. Of course you know. The cane is unmistakable.

You shift on your knees, parting them ever so slightly and shifting back so that you can arch your back before your Master can chide you for not doing so.

Solus lets out a pleased hum.

" _Good giiiirrrrrl,_ " he croons out, and you quiver as the hand slips away from your hair.

"Look at me."

For all the silence you kept that evening, for the first time you struggle to remain quiet.

You lift your head from the couch with the pace of a snail, lifting first your neck, then you head, and then finally your eyes as if you're afraid to look at him.

...

But of course you are.

The man is beautiful, and even just _looking_ at him threatens to send you undone.

He can see it too. You know he knows. And he knows that you do.

His lips twist up on one side as you shiver when your gaze meets his.

He extends a hand and cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

By the Twelve you live for this man's touch...

"My beautiful little thing..." he breathes out, leaning ever so slightly forward.

Silence hangs in the air for a few moments, save for the sound of your laboured breathing.

"What do you say...?"

You tremble against his palm.

"Thank you, Master..."

His smile grows, and he lets go of you.

Obedient little pet you are your head dips back down, and in moments you're back against the couch, pressing your head to its softness.

You can practically feel when he lifts the cane from where he left it... Practically feel when it sits, hovering in the air above your backside, and then when it comes hissing through the air.

The sting is one of the few things you can not silence.

You let out a soft cry at the first strike, fingers burying into the fabric of his trousers as you shift forward.

Already you're trembling, but you shimmy back into position again within seconds to avoid upsetting him.

Solus says nothing as you squirm, nor does he comment when you move back into position.

Instead the cane comes down a second time, hissing through the air as you tense up and it strikes the opposite cheek.

Again you cry, again you tense up and lurch forward. Again, you move back into your arch.

Another strike. Then another. Eventually you lose yourself. Solus's hand guides you back into your arch, settling upon the center of your spine and pulling you forward as his foot between your legs urges your lower body back out.

You don't know how many you've taken by the time it stops.

You lay upon Solus's lower leg, practically clinging to it like some desperate thing when the cane settles back by your side.

You quiver and flinch when his hand settles on your scalp, finger carding through your locks.

He hushes you gently, bringing his other hand to your shoulder and stroking the skin there as he pulls you down from your adrenaline high.

"Come," he says quietly, tapping his thigh.

It takes you an eternity to do so but you pry your hands off him, not sparing a single thought for the fact your hands are still cuffed.

You don't know where you pluck the energy from, but from somewhere you garner the ability to pull yourself to your feet.

One step, two, you shift your shivering form onto the couch with your legs spread around his, and then practically sink into his hold like sinking into the ocean.

Whatever tension is left in your form fades as you settle your head on his shoulder and his arms wrap around you, pulling you in close to his warm frame.

You barely have the energy in you to murmur when you feel his hand between your legs, cold compared to the heat that has grown there.

A single finger trails over your thigh and then touches upon your clit, giving a solitary circle as you let out a shuddering exhale.

"Thank you.." you breathe out.

Even if your subservience is no longer required, you would still give it, even with all your energy spent.

He lets out a soft chuckle, pressing his lips to your temple.

"You've done your part, pet," he mutters out against your skin as his finger speeds. "Now, let me take care of you."

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to scream about FFXIV fanfiction, G'raha Tia, Emet-Selch, and anyone else, come join us at our discord server at [Emet-Selch's Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club](https://discord.gg/RHEBesD). We'd love to meet you ♥


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